


Hope for the Future

by Pixial



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 14:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18096515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixial/pseuds/Pixial
Summary: Dorian and Bull are confronted with the possibility of fatherhood, and it might not be as bad as they'd first imagined.





	Hope for the Future

**Author's Note:**

> This was proudly written for the _They Were Good for Each Other_ Adoribull zine.
> 
>  
> 
> Edit. Just realized there was a tag here that Did Not Belong. This is what I get for posting at 4am on my phone.

"Is it morally wrong of me to be grateful that our Inquisitor has the flu so she doesn't have to be here?" Dorian asked, grimacing as he tripped over what seemed to be the remnants of an arm.

"Nah. Boss doesn't need to see this. She's got enough on her plate." Bull nudged a corpse in Venatori colors with his foot.

It had been a massacre. Venatori had chosen to sacrifice an entire village in the outskirts of Orlais in a desperate bid to overpower Inquisition forces. Dorian had ridden out with Bull and his Chargers to give aid, but it appeared they'd arrived too late. The villagers were dead, and the Venatori had been slaughtered by the demons they summoned. All that had remained was to put the demons down-- a task in which the Chargers were more than capable. Dorian had barely needed to use so much as a firebolt in the ensuing scuffle.

"Now what?" he asked, looking over the mess of burnt homes and decimated lives. It was bleak, and he didn't think he'd ever get used to seeing life erased so completely. If Bull had been standing close enough, he'd have leaned against him in an attempt to regain his equilibrium.

Bull grunted and turned his attention to his men. "Search for survivors or anything useful. Make a note of everything and for _fuck's sake_ don't let your guard down."

"Aye, aye, Chief," Krem said with a salute that to any other eye would seem mocking. It _still_ seemed mocking to Dorian, but he'd given up trying to parse out the relationship between Bull and his second in command ages ago.

The Chargers milled about for a few moments, pairing off and scattering throughout the charred husks of buildings. Bull stepped close to Dorian, placing one heavy hand on his shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.

Dorian pressed back against him, his fingers twisting the chain of the dragon's tooth around his neck, and welcomed his lover's warmth, revelling in something soft and kind in this Blighted place. It had taken time and a good deal of soul searching to accept the gifts Bull offered, but now it was as simple as breathing.

"Not precisely, but we've work to do," he said finally.

Bull nodded and guided him towards a street that didn't yet have any searchers. It was as desolate as everything else, and Dorian had very little expectations on finding anyone still breathing.

Which, of course, is when he heard a tiny voice raised in a heartrending wail.

Dorian dashed towards the sound with Bull on his heels. His heart pounded, hope and terror warring with each other as he threw a blackened door to the side, bursting into a small house. A man lay motionless and bloody surrounded by three dead shades. A battered sword was still gripped tightly in his fist, covered in gore.

"Shit..." Bull breathed. He opened his mouth to say more but the cry began again, weaker.

"Bull, he's on top of something." The dead man had been guarding something-- a cellar door. Bull moved the corpse out of the way with surprising gentleness, and Dorian popped the lock with a bit of ice.

They opened the door, and for once someone had heard the fierce prayers Dorian held in his heart. Huddled at the foot of the stairs was a woman, bleeding and unconscious, but breathing. In her arms was a small child, squinting up at the pair in the sudden light.

She opened her mouth with another cry, and Dorian almost fell trying to get down the stairs fast enough. Bull caught him by the edge of his robe and steadied him as they went down into the dark.

The child practically jumped out of her mother's arms for Dorian, and he caught her on reflex. He had quite literally never held a child before, but fortunately this one was old enough to hold her own body more or less straight. She clung to his neck, and something strange flickered in his heart. "You're alright now," he found himself saying with an instinct he didn't think he possessed, patting her back as she trembled in his arms. "We're here to help."

Bull knelt down by the woman. "She's hurt. In shock. If we can get her out of here, I think Stitches'll be able to help her." He carefully picked her up, and they made their way back into the greying light of the day.

oOo

 

They'd set up camp out of sight of the ruined village-- better for morale, Bull figured. After all, no one liked the stench or sight of corpses when one was bedding down for the night. 

Dorian took the child-- who _adamantly refused_ to be put down-- to their shared tent as Bull took her mother to the medical tent. Her breathing was shallow with pain, but she looked marginally better in daylight than she had in the cramped cellar.

“Any idea what happened?” Stitches asked as he worked. 

“Looked like she'd fallen down the stairs? Or her husband pushed her to get her down quickly?” Bull said, scratching a horn. There wasn't much blood, but head trauma wasn't exactly easy to deal with.

“She's got a broken ankle for sure,” Stitches said. “Probable concussion. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“That's what I like to hear.” Bull clapped the medic on the back as he stood. “I'm going to find Dorian and give him the news.”

The camp was small-- the Chargers being a bit more friendly with each other than other companies Bull had been a part of-- and he heard Dorian and the child before he saw them.

A high giggle sounded from their shared tent, and it made Bull's heart do a funny little twist. 

“It's just a simple light spell, really. Useful if you are in need of-- Mademoiselle, are you listening? Education is rather important, young lady,” Dorian admonished the giggle with a fondness Bull rarely heard in public.

He leaned against the tent pole and peeked inside, watching as his lover moved conjured sparks of light above the child's head. She reached for them with a delighted shriek, and the grin on Dorian's face almost made Bull's heart ache with joy and wistfulness.

They hadn't talked much about the future, he and Dorian. They knew what they were, but futures were distant, ephemeral things when the fate of the world was in question. And before Dorian, Bull had known his life's path.

Parenthood -- _family_ \-- hadn't been in it. 

But now? Seeing his lover with hair mussed by sticky fingers and ruining his robes and crawling on a tent floor to entertain a little girl? 

It was sort of hard to envision anything else he wanted more. 

The kid caught sight of Bull lurking in the entry and hauled herself to her feet, marching her wobbly way towards him with determination. She studied him with a gleam in her eye that was practically intimidating, and Bull braced himself.

“UP!” she demanded, raising her arms with an imperious air that would have impressed the great Madame de Fer. How could Bull disobey?

He scooped the tyke up and deposited her on his shoulders. She made herself comfortable, clutching his horns with a surprisingly strong grip.

Dorian stood, smoothing his hair. Once, he would have been embarrassed to be seen in any other state beyond perfection, but now he merely went to Bull's side as if it was the most natural thing. 

Bull considered that progress.

“She doesn't seem too worse for wear,” Dorian said with a smirk. “She's been practically bouncing off the walls since I set her down.”

“That’s good news. Even better, Stitches says the woman will make a full recovery.”

“Thank the Maker,” Dorian sighed. “I’m not sure I can keep up with her energy just yet.”

Dorian's tone gave Bull pause. “Yet?”

Dorian flushed, giving Bull a soft smile that never failed to turn his heart to mush. “I think I'd like to, eventually. Perhaps?”

“Yeah.” Bull answered the unspoken question, giving his lover's shoulder a quick squeeze. “Me too.”

 

oOo

All said and done, Dorian and the Chargers spent an almost idyllic two weeks in the company of Nettie-- as her mother named her when she finally awoke. 

Dorian and Bull took charge of Nettie while her mother was in Stitches’ care, and while it wasn't always a matter of simple babysitting (Dorian didn't think he would ever understand how something that small could make such a _noise_ ) but it was good. Educational even.

And when Dorian caught sight of Bull toting the girl about in a camp full of lethal mercenaries with ease, he couldn't deny a bit of warmth growing in his heart.

 _Someday,_ he thought, watching Bull try to teach a two year old how to punch his second in command. _Someday._


End file.
